He’d stopped—maybe for air or maybe because it was my turn—so with a tight chest, I started. My head was firmly directed to the floor. I’d really lose it if I had to see him when I said these things.

“I fell in love with you, and not the stalker way. The real way.” I laughed. “I think it might’ve started when you called me a camp groupie. I’m weird like that, or maybe when you answered the first round of questions I asked you. Then a bit more when I stepped out of the bathroom and you were there, waiting for me. You told me you didn’t like ‘it,’ and that meant something to me.”

I risked a look. He was rolling his eyes, but I spoke again, drawing his attention back to me. “You saw me. Most don’t. You were right. I use the crazy as a shtick, and it’s not right. I mean, I’m being really unfair because I know no one’s really crazy. There is no crazy. People have struggles, or imbalances, but they’re not really nuts like I use it. But it kept people away for the longest time. Until you. You saw through it, and you started to like me anyway.”

His arms fell to his side, and his eyes became softer.

“We were friends, and I really loved being friends with you, but I was still trying not to feel anything or let anyone in. I couldn’t. I thought I would shatter, because if you let people in, they can hurt you. I was raw—still am, to be honest. But you got in there, and I started not only wanting to be around you all the time, but looking forward to seeing you, to texting you, to just hearing your voice. The calls. The texts. That’s all just because I’m desperate for some attention from you.”

My voice broke off.

In one sense, this was embarrassing. In another sense, I was exposing myself again and bracing for what he’d say in return. But most of all, I was saying what I meant, and deep down I knew I would handle whatever came back from it.

That was freeing.

It was needed.

This. This was a part of moving on. I couldn’t explain it, but I felt it. I knew it.

I looked up again, unshed tears pooling in my eyes. “I fell in love with you, but I am still really messed up, and I am still really exposed, and I am… I am like a toothless saw that had all its jagged edges fall out, and you have to put them back in. Glue them. I don’t know how you do it—buy a new saw? Though since I’m the broken one, I hope you don’t do that. Anyway, a toothless saw, that’s me.”